


Surfacing Desires

by Sid



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Power Dynamics, Power Exchange, Season/Series 04, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sid/pseuds/Sid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naked mining.  Yes, it's a <em>Beneath The Surface</em> episode-related fic!  Jonah's dream changes Jack's life, and Daniel's too, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surfacing Desires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karmageddon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karmageddon/gifts).



> I am terribly sorry that this is so late, but I'm grateful to my muse for (belatedly) coming through for me. I want to thank everyone who offered encouragement when I was struggling to find my way. Special thanks to Beth for some brainstorming that helped me view different approaches, when my brain had locked in on something that just wouldn't work. And a final, enigmatic thank you to _Route 66_ and Serendipity.

  


It began as a dream that Jonah had. Carlin, swinging a pickaxe, a sheen of sweat making his arms glisten in the torchlight as his muscles worked smoothly, powerfully. He'd turned a glance on Jonah, somehow both glacial and heated, and Jonah had sunk to his knees and swayed there in exhaustion. He'd been mining all day, too. Naked. He was naked. While Carlin's strong arms were framed, accentuated by his sleeveless shirt.

His arms made Jonah's throat ache, and his cock stiffen.

Carlin took him, then and there, brushing aside Jonah's half-hearted attempts to resist, effortlessly maneuvering Jonah's limbs until they were just as he wanted them, pinning him with hard hands, forcing his cock into him, driving into him…

Jonah had awoken with a rigid cock, the memory of moaning lingering in his ears. With a gasp he'd flung himself over on his cot, burying his face into the pillow. Shoving his hand into his trousers, he'd begun to work his cock with frantic pulls, feeling a tide of heat rising on the back of his neck. He was surrounded on all sides by sleeping workers, but he didn't care. He wasn't the first to do this. He'd overheard others. He didn't care. No one cared. They had little enough pleasure in their lives.

As his right hand and a good portion of his half-asleep brain were embracing his dream, some small part of his mind was dissecting it. Naked equaled vulnerable. Rape equaled submission. Submission equaled heaven. This was new.

Was this new? Between Tor and Carlin, with their S G Ones and their glowing puddles, Jonah was beginning to question everything.

Carlin didn't really have that powerful a build. Jonah had wrestled with him in the food line, hammered at a release valve with him. The man in his dream was built much differently. But Carlin himself, the real Carlin…was still pretty…damn…

Jonah came as silently as he could, and drifted back into a dreamless sleep soon after. They were all, always, exhausted.

It was an honor to serve. Wasn't it?

All day long, as he labored at his assignment, he'd remembered the thrill of feeling Carlin's hands biting into him. In one moment of…idiocy? bravado? - he mentioned naked mining in front of Thera and Carlin both, and felt his cock stir. An up-from-under glance had showed that, of course, those words meant nothing to Carlin. They brought absolutely no reaction whatsoever. Why the hell would they? It had just been an insane dream. So why did he feel so stupidly let down?

Jonah flirted with Thera after that, a little guiltily, almost in self-defense. Not that he hadn't flirted with her before. He was a man; she was a woman. Remembering feeling feelings wasn't exactly a lie, either. He was sure he cared. And she felt _safe_.

Carlin…Carlin was dangerous. With his demanding body and his gripping hands and his flexing, relentless muscles…

Carlin was a dream. Nothing but a dream.

One that Jack O'Neill remembered. One he couldn't forget. One that made him look at Daniel in a new way.

~~~~

They stumbled into love, really. Maybe that was what happened when it was two guys. Maybe women saw things more clearly. Jack only understood _want_ and _need_ , and could only hope that Daniel wanted and needed something, too. And that Jack would do.

His approach was deliberately clumsy. There was more built-in plausible deniability that way. But Daniel went from confused to eager so damn quickly that it was gratifying. Jack would apparently do very nicely, as far as Daniel was concerned. His response put a little joy into what could otherwise have seemed almost sordid due to the necessary degree of secrecy involved.

A little joy; a lot of joy. Time went on. So much joy. They were making each other _happy_ as well as horny. Nobody was writing anybody any sonnets, but the love was there, in the kisses, in the smiles, in the caresses, in the way they held each other.

Jack could've kicked himself for wanting more.

Could have died when Daniel realized it.

Cautiously decided that he might possibly want to go on living, when Daniel seemed open to the concept of change rather than hurt at the idea that he was somehow falling short in the 'satisfying Jack' department.

"Tell me. What is it you want, Jack?"

"I, I don't know." Jack felt pinned by the intent blue gaze.

Daniel looked away for a few seconds. Looked back. "Do you want us to find out together?"

But Jack _did_ know, and he wanted Daniel to know, too. He just didn't want to say it. Didn't know how to say it. Didn't know if he _could_ say it.

Found himself saying it: "Jonah…Jonah had a dream."

~~~~

The nice thing was that Daniel embraced the idea of trying to make Jonah's dream come true. The really nice thing was that Daniel understood what Jack was asking for, without losing sight for a second of who Jack _was_. "You're granting me this control over you, but what you really want is for me to be strong enough to _take_ it."

Jack could only nod, his face burning. He wasn't ashamed. Daniel's responsiveness left no room for shame. It was just awfully hard to talk about this. Daniel was the talker of the two of them, and even he rarely wanted to chitchat about the stuff that they did in the bedroom. And the living room. And all the other rooms in the house.

Daniel's face was a little red, too, but the light in his eyes seemed to indicate that that might be caused by excitement rather than embarrassment. "Then I guess I'm gonna have to start working out more."

The absolutely wonderful, terrific thing was that when push came to shove - and it did, literally - Daniel plainly got off on this shift in their dynamic almost as much as Jack did. He'd never been a gym rat, although he'd put in his necessary time at the base facilities to compensate for the hours, the _years_ he'd spent hunching over a desk. Now Daniel had a purpose, a goal, and he positively haunted the weight room.

And Jack got to enjoy the results. These days, after outfitting and expanding the exercise area in his basement, he even got to personally enjoy the show, which hadn't exactly been a safe idea on base. Here, it didn't matter if he got hard. If? When. Definitely when. How could he help it, with such a feast for the eyes?

Daniel, always in a tank top, doing bicep curls. Doing reps with the barbell while Jack spotted for him. Doing pull-ups and push-ups. Strengthening his legs. Strengthening his hands, squeezing the grippers that looked so much like the Earth origin symbol. Squeezing the grippers and looking Jack in the eye and grinning.

It had become a joke between them. Daniel's hands. Jack's balls. What he _could_ do. Wouldn't. Jack didn't want him to, obviously. But _could_. He grinned at Jack while he squeezed the grippers, and he grinned at Jack when he cupped his balls, and Jack tingled in both cases, grinning right back.

Today Daniel was working the heavy bag, gloves on, tank off. Jack loved the tank tops that reminded him of Carlin, but for boxing, well, a bare chest looked so much better atop satin boxing shorts. Jack himself was bare all over. Who needed a mine, anyway? Naked Daniel-watching was much more rewarding.

Jack braced the swinging bag as Daniel punched at it repeatedly. The bag absorbed the force of the blows, but Jack felt them land. Felt Daniel's power. Listened to his grunting and the thud, thud of the gloves. Watched his muscles working smoothly, watched as a sheen of sweat developed, Daniel's neck and chest glistening with it.

He could smell Daniel's sweat. He wanted to taste it.

Left, left, right. Left, left, left, right. Naturally stronger on the right, Daniel was always giving extra attention to developing his left side to match. Jack enjoyed whipping out the measuring tape to compare one arm against the other. Then calves. Thighs. And there were other things to measure and compare, speaking of whipping stuff out.

And other things that could be done with a measuring tape…

With a last one-two punch, Daniel stopped with a loud exhalation. Leaning one glove against the bag, he gestured toward Jack's shoulder with the other hand.

Jack removed the towel hanging over his shoulder and stepped in to mop Daniel's forehead, blotting at his hairline and sideburns, making sure no drops of sweat were going to get into his eyes.

Daniel put his right glove on Jack's shoulder and, when Jack dropped the towel, stretched to reach behind Jack's head and compel him forward into a kiss.

Daniel's chest was slick and heaving under Jack's hand. Heat poured off him and sank into Jack's bones. His tongue was demanding. The glove slid down Jack's back, pressing against his ass while Daniel's knee forced him to widen his stance.

Jack spread his legs and opened his mouth wider. Daniel ground his hips into Jack, and the fabric of his trunks slid over Jack's semi-erect cock while Daniel's own growing erection pressed against it. The sound that escaped from Jack's mouth into Daniel's was needy.

Daniel's answering sound was one of satisfaction. He nipped at Jack's lower lip and released him. "Take off my trunks."

Jack lowered himself to his knees, and drew the trunks down, pulling the waistband out to get past Daniel's erection. A gloved hand used the top of Jack's head for balance as Daniel stepped out of the trunks. Jack tossed them away and nuzzled into the damp fabric of Daniel's underwear, inhaling deeply.

"And those."

Jack took them off slowly, and ran his hands up the outside of Daniel's thighs when they'd been disposed of.

"Suck my balls."

Jack lifted Daniel's cock, pressing it up against his belly, and eagerly took one of Daniel's balls into his mouth, lapping at it with his tongue. Salty, aromatic Daniel filled his senses. He moved on to the other testicle, giving Daniel's cock an excited squeeze. Daniel rubbed a gloved hand against Jack's cheek.

"Get the lube, and be quick about it."

Jack withdrew his mouth and scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, scanning the room. Where had they used the lube last?

Daniel lifted his cock with one glove and stroked it with the other.

Jack swallowed, staring.

"What did I just say?"

"Stop distracting me," Jack retorted, forcing himself to look away. He spotted the bottle of lube standing against the far leg of the weight bench and went to get it. He leaned across the bench and grabbed it. When he straightened, Daniel was right there, looking hotter than hell wearing just his boxing shoes, socks, and bag gloves.

"I don't think I have to tell you what to do next."

Jack popped the lid of the bottle and filled the palm of his hand. "You can if you want to," he answered, licking his lips. A gentle tap on the jaw rocked his head to the side. Jack took Daniel's cock into his slick hand and began to coat it thoroughly. He looked Daniel in the eyes and felt his heart thud at the look he found there. "You can do anything you want to." His voice came out tight.

"I could do everything I want to."

Just the right amount of menace. Jack shivered with anticipation as he gave his hands a quick wipe with the towel he'd dropped earlier.

"On your knees, across the bench."

Jack got into position, his torso lying across the width of the padded bench. "Wait," he said, twisting to look back at Daniel. "Gloves?"

One of the gloves pushed him back where Daniel wanted him. "The gloves stay on."

Jack's cock really liked that idea. "Kinky," he breathed. His heartbeat quickened as he realized that Daniel wouldn't be able to prep him with the gloves still on.

Carlin certainly hadn't bothered to prep Jonah, but Daniel had always prepped Jack.

Daniel leaned an arm on Jack's back as he lowered himself behind him. Jack felt the glove touching the nape of his neck, and his hips thrust back of their own accord. He gripped the bench and waited for Daniel to push his legs farther apart.

Instead, Daniel used a knee and a glove to push Jack's legs together. "Keep them there. Tight. Squeeze tight."

Jack squeezed tight. Daniel's slick cock was between his thighs. Daniel began thrusting. His cock slid back and forth, bumping against Jack's balls with every stroke. His gloved hands gripped Jack's hips at first, but then he changed position, stretching over Jack's back and sliding his hands under Jack's armpits.

Jack could see the gloves on either side of his face, and then Daniel was pulling, lifting Jack's shoulders an inch or two, putting a slight bow in his back. Jack quickly adjusted his arms so he could take some of his weight onto his elbows, and arched his neck back.

The bow in his back meant that the angle of his hips was changed, too. Daniel's cock was pressing up against Jack's perineum now, and he was fucking harder, faster. Dear God, it had felt good before, but now it was fantastic. The slide across one of the most sensitive parts of any man's body, followed by the thump of the head of Daniel's cock into another highly sensitive area. "Yeah!"

Daniel's teeth scraped over the back of Jack's shoulder, followed by a lick of his tongue. Jack shuddered. Another nip, and Daniel's hips were slowing, slowing. He stopped moving, pressed up tight against Jack's ass.

Was he coming? The breathing didn't sound right for that. Although Jack's own breathing was loud enough that he could have missed something.

Daniel's right hand pushed against Jack's cheek, startling him. "Get the glove."

Using his left hand and his teeth, Jack loosened the Velcro grip and tugged the glove off, revealing the Mexican hand wrap that covered Daniel's hand from wrist to knuckles. When he reached for the Velcro fastening on the wrap, Daniel stopped him with a growl. "Leave it."

Daniel pulled his right hand back from underneath Jack's arm, dragging it along his flank and down across his stomach, reaching for his cock. His fingers were warm and damp, and the cotton/spandex blend of the wrap covering his palm was ever so slightly scratchy. His hips were moving again, and his teeth were back worrying at Jack's shoulder. When his hand started moving, too, Jack's mouth opened in a soundless cry.

It didn't stay soundless for long. In fact it may have been one of his noisier orgasms on record.

Daniel spurted between his thighs, Jack squeezing as tightly as he could, shaking with the effort and with his own release. Daniel tumbled them over backwards onto the floor, keeping Jack pulled close and gasping sweet obscenities into his ear. His wrapped hand still cradled Jack's cock.

Jack closed his eyes and panted for oxygen. Daniel was warm against his back. He could lie here just like this forever, if the floor weren't so damn hard.

Because this was heaven. Because, in the end, of all the marvelous things Daniel's strong arms and hands did to him and for him, holding him tightly at moments like these was honestly the very best thing of all.


End file.
